Wallace Stevens, a poet admired by Josipovici, is described by Simon Critchley, in Things Merely Are, as the philosophically most interesting poet to have written in English in the twentieth century.

Critchley’s book quotes Stevens’ description of T. S. Eliot as ‘an upright ascetic in an exceedingly floppy world,’ one of finest depictions of Eliot that I have read. Critchley goes on to describe Stevens as ‘somewhat floppier, gaudier.’

All of which tells me that I need to dip deeper into Steven’s oeuvre; Critchley particularly rates his later work.